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Rabbit In the Hat
Turquoise cracks spread out from the mountainous peaks breaking the horizon, spreading through the forest and illuminating the castle wall. Hardened mud squatted between thick wooden pillars, swirls and markings covering the outside edge. They matched up with the script on the sword’s base and those in Layla’s journal; no doubt whatever was written here was the same language.
I passed through the wall to find a wild, overgrown courtyard with vines crawling over every structure that hadn’t bent itself to time. Nature’s bold display of taking back her own. I passed by the mounds of budding plant life, focusing on finding the end of this crazy rabbit hole. The scenery blurred, torn rugs and rusted weapons blending in with red walls and old tapestries. Everything melted into darkness. For a moment or two, I heard and saw nothing.
A soft glow began to emanate from somewhere in front of me, bouncing off rough stone walls and giving me just enough light to see by.
Symbols were crudely carved into stone, magic filling the marks with pale colors as it grew until each character pulsed with steady light. As each one lit up, the room grew more and more illuminated and exposed the harsh silhouette of a figure standing in the center. His wiry arms moved back and forth as he pushed energy into the room, each symbol reflecting the ebb and flow of his work. I squinted, trying to see him better while having a moment of déjà vu.
Electricity snapped through the air. Very old and very powerful magic burst from underneath his feet, swirling around his body. Beams of light struck his body and face as they began to dance around the room. I got flashes of skin and cotton, but the lightshow was moving by too fast for much else.
His arms moved to a beat only he could hear, guiding the swirling power like a maestro amongst a storm. A string of alien words were added to the throng of noise and motion, condensing the power into a throbbing white tornado.
With a grumble and a groan, five stones at his feet erupted. Light exploded from them, casting a sparkling wash over everything; the reds, silvers, blues, and greens danced around us in a flurry of light and energy.
In the sudden light I finally got a good look at the figure in the center. A pale cotton T-shirt floated around his middle, contained by a simple denim jacket. A naked sword hung down alongside his jeans and he had red-and-white sneakers to complete his outfit.
Wait a minute.
This spell caster was Terran.
Wild brown hair whipped out behind him, half-gloved hands manipulating the magic like a master sculptor. His sneakers squeaked on the stone as he adjusted a foot, pushing the power into place before it had a chance to stray. I caught a glimpse of his face as he turned, catching leather skin and fierce brown eyes. He spun back around, a blast of wind pushing his hair up and back so I caught sight of his ears.
This guy wasn’t just a Terran. He was human.
The man stood for a second, letting the power billow and white magic soak up the light in the room. With a sharp inhale, the man slammed his hands together. With an equally thunderous clap, the magic collapsed and dispersed.
Everything was deafeningly still. The man stood for a moment or two, waiting in the quiet. After a couple of deep exhales, he broke the stillness with a nod and a loud sigh. His shoulders relaxed into a sloped slump and his head lolled back and forth for a moment as he stretched his neck.
"That does it, then," he said casually. "Access to the portals is closed, as Glidon wanted." He began moving around the room, picking up each of the stones carefully and examining them one at a time as he talked. "That elf really is a mean one when he wants to be. He managed to figure out a spell blocking all portals between here and Earth. Just ptthhh"—he made a raspberry sound while making a slashing motion with a free hand while picking up a bismuth stone—"no more. The only way to create a portal to this world now is if you have...” he hesitated, staring at the piece of bismuth before giving a chuckle and tucking it away. “Well, is if you have the best of both worlds."
He gave a sliding, pointed look in my direction before continuing.
Damnit, could he see me too? What was the point of being invisible or intangible if people kept seeing you before you were ready to be seen?
"It's this war," he continued, picking up a smooth, blood-red stone. "The warriors from the DawnLands want to start a fight with The Clans of Koanni. Couldn't imagine why." He gave off a sharp laugh as he picked up a shard of silver and made a show of examining it. "Not that they followed any sort of rules of combat. No declaration. No explanation. Just up and attacked us one day. What’s worse, they seem to have somehow conscripted some of the marwolaeths. I don’t know how, seeing as how The Clans have proven to be un-corruptible. Not sure what’s changed, but it can’t mean anything good."
He contemplated the statement as he observed a small round piece of opal. "They've been acting strange, lately. Groups of various marwolaeth have been attacking the elves—and even each other—here on Koanni, unprovoked. It's like they've been brainwashed or manipulated somehow. Mind control?" He shrugged, tucking away a bit of crystal. "I don't know; we haven't been able to figure it out yet. But I know Glidon's been working on it. Probably something he'd write down in his journal."
Now finished gathering up the stones, the man closed his eyes and concentrated. Magic began to swell inside his body. When his eyes opened again, they burned white with energy. He raised a hand and swiped it to the side, the space in front of him ripping to one side. A docile Terran forest was revealed on the other, a gentle breeze flitting through. The energy in his eyes faded in sync to the magic in the room. He paused, staring at the forest.
"I know you're there, ghost," he said finally. "In case you had any doubts. I can't quite see who you are, for some reason, and I don't know why you're here, but I hope it's to help. I've told you all I can without knowing more. I'm taking these stones back to earth, where they'll be hidden and hidden well. If you want the rest of the story, search me out when you can. Tell me the names of my family members so I can know you, and I’ll tell you the rest of our story."
He stepped through the opening, pausing long enough to look directly at me. “My name is Wolf.”
With that, reality snapped back into place. I was alone.
I glanced around the room for a second, taking it all in. The alien characters on the walls. The fact that Terran stones had been used in an alien ritual. Wolf’s strange ability to create a portal through the worlds even after he said he closed them off. The puzzle pieces were set before me, now, and I think Wolf had just given me a couple of corners to work with.
"I think I've got everything I need,” I called out. “You can stop this at any minute now."
Darkness rolled over me a second time. When color began to seep back in, I was back in Sparrow’s castle. Both women stood exactly where they were before, both sets of eyes staring at me. A slow, calm smile spread over Grace’s face as she began to back away, her fingers sliding out from my forehead and leaving my body with a chill.
She drifted back to stand next to Sparrow, sliding her hands into the sleeves of her black robes and drawing herself up into an authoritative position. “The portals,” she said softly, “are not sealed off. They’re simply closed and locked from the other side.”
“And the stones Wolf was enchanting were the keys...” I half-asked. Grace nodded.
“If you have the power,” she said, “you can pop back and forth just as easily as before. Why else did you think so many were after Layla? Her bloodline and that stupid prophecy surrounding it?”
Our theory had been correct, then. Afanasiy wasn’t after Layla for her bloodline, he was after her for her sword. Our little trick of ‘giving’ the kid to Afanasiy and then blackmailing the Keepers to help us get her back wasn’t necessary because he didn’t get what he wanted in the first place.
The fox wasn’t stupid, but neither was I. He wants one of the weapons to get back to his home world and most likely help to finish the war. The main problem, then, becomes a question of which side he’s truly fighting for; the marwolaeths, which is what he is currently, or the land of the Light of which he used to be a soldier for?
Damn. Wolf didn’t give me as much to work with as I thought.
Nevertheless, more research into Layla’s bloodline was now second priority. First was making sure all the weapons – all the keys – were out of Afanasiy’s hands. At this point, I didn’t care which side he was working for and I could give them back if he truly proved himself an ally. Or I could just keep them all for myself and utilize them at the best possible moment, which was more my style anyway. Keep all the cards hidden until absolutely necessary.
Even with all of this, something was still bugging me.
"Alright," I said, looking directly at Grace. "Who the hell is Wolf?"